Dear God,

Remember when you asked Adam about eating from the tree? And he said, “The woman YOU put here with me, she gave me some fruit from the tree, and I ate it.”?

Sounds like me don’t it?  I know me being a failure wasn’t your fault at all. I just don’t understand. Anything. “You’re supposed  to know my heart. And know all the hairs on my head.  So I highly doubt you missed the tears. Even if I don’t know how to pray right there is no way you couldn’t have heard one.

Supposedly you’re touched by our feelings. How could mine have touched you and you leave me lost and alone. Alone except for the enemy. Alone except for all the people I’ve hurt.

I became what I  hated and fought. Please Jesus be touched. Please. It wasn’t the woman you gave me. It was the calling. I thought it was from you. Please help.

My own beard and hair are streaked with gray. I don’t recognize myself much in the mirror. Good. I’m dreading the point at which I have to shave. I came in weighing 320 lbs.  Went to medical for vitals to be read. Getting paperwork straight. Current weight is now 260. I don’t believe it. Blood pressure low. Pulse 128 bpm. Have horrible dizzy spells so bad I almost fall out of bed when I roll over. I think in addition to destroying my short term memory my little spell of drug abuse might have messed up something a little more serious. 260. I always thought my skeleton must weigh at least 180.

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All things work together. I’m praying for you. Trust in the Lord. I can do all things through Christ. Read the Bible it will strengthen you.

I think people stop using cliches after someone uses one on them during a crisis. I have a beautiful Brand New BIBLE. Took a lot of trouble getting it to me. When I’m at my lowest I take it out for a little help. I look at it like its an instruction manual for a Russian nuclear sub. Written in Russian.

I guess I’ve lost my mind more than I realized. I don’t even know how to use the Bible anymore. Try letting it fall open to a scripture. Did that. The building specs on the badger skin coated tabernacle didn’t really lift my spirits. Nor did UFO’s seen by a naked profit.

I’m reading through even the New Testament and words are blurring together and my mind is loose and ungrasping. I don’t know anything.

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Don is an idiot. As much as I lover Raymond I hate Don. Even his name is stupid.

Don doesn’t mess with me. I hardly ever talk to him. You ever meet someone who  makes you wanna punch  him just  by the way he looks?  It was probably Don. He’s real scraggly looking like a bit fat stupid looking muslim. He actually, and I’m not making this up, wraps a sheet around his head like a Muslim headpiece.

When the guard gets on the intercom (its against regulations to put anything over your face or on your head) or say something about it at the door, this moron  tells them  its his religious clothing and if they don’t bring him a prayer rug and tell him where East is that he’s going to sue the jail. And they laugh and walk away.

One day he wanted them to refund $8 for a haircut he didn’t get. He ACTUALLY told them that he was going to blow up our pod if they didn’t give him his money. Someone from our pod was getting a haircut up front and told us that they heard over the radio that a Muslim was going to blow up our pod and all the guards left.

Don had told them he was a suicide bomber with 12 pounds of dynamite. They thought he was hilarious. The guards. I think he’s an idiot. He’s always saying goofy stuff like “Oh boy” and everyone starts it all the time. Hardened criminals.

The other night he told Lee that once he’d caught an albino catfish. Named it Wayne and put it in a bucket of water. Little by little he drained the water until one day there was none left. He had trained the catfish to breathe air. He just kept it damp so it wouldn’t dry out. Said that  he took that catfish everywhere. Trained it to flop beside him around the house.

One day he went fishing and took Wayne with him. Just set him right on the dock beside him. Well one of the bait crickets jumped out of the little cardboard box into the pond. Wayne, being hungry and loving crickets, jumped in after it, And drowned.  Yeah they all think he’s soooo funny. Well I don’t. I think he’s sad.

IMW

6699

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Song 7 – Written by Branden E. Carter Jr.

This is to some one who liven on the road of groly. Now I know your teiling your stroy how you made it over. Befor you went away. You where a freind to me. You will always be within by heart each night an day. But now I just got to whate. An stay on my knee’s an pray that tomorrow will be a batter day.

Now I can know how much life mines to me. The time that we have is not lone but your love will live on after your gone. I pray that some day some one will think that way about me someday.

God has you in His arms knowing that on one can do any harm. So that you can sang your song in the home that God has made for you in the land of groly. So one day we can teil our stray togrether How we over come. The stromes an the rain of the panful ways of life.

Their where some good days alone the way. But now where hair to stay on the road of groly. We will teil our Stroy on this day of groly. Now we live on the road of groly.

By: Branden E. Carter Jr.

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tie a knot in the rope

i’m so tired of breathing.  i’ve been told to tie a knot and hang on.  i’ve been told to stand.  i’ve been told to keep fighting.  i’ve been told to minister to those around me.  I can do none of them.  I’m just laying here broken and battered and my only struggle is to just keep breathing.   I’m hurt.  I’m filled with anger and hate.  I’ve heard the worst part about Hell is the complete absence of Gods presence.  Then all thats lacking is the flames.  I don’t want to keep praying.  I have nothing left to fight for.  My physical health is wonderful.  I’ll probably live to be old.  Thats what I have to look forward to.  I have family who loves me beyond belief.  But their kindnesses are like those shown to a stranger.  I see them. and appreciate them for what they are.  I’m too tired and bitter to keep praying.  I can’t pray for strength or grace or mercy.  I have no hope.  How can I pray for vengenace when I’m the worst of everyone?  I have no recourse.  For all hope to be taken.  For every vestige of hope to be completely removed is a terrible thing.  To know that those that hurt me all are happy in their lives.  I’ve fallen.  I’ve failed. But the people I was most loyal to and helped the most have their pleasure in completely destroying me.  I hate all of them.  All I know now is pain and hate.

imw

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